Guardians Arise: Dance of the Crimson Knives
by PitFTW
Summary: They are ruthless, cold-blooded killers. The Gods say they will perish on the same day. In order to keep their souls alive, blood sacrifices must be made. Their hearts belong to the Guardians. And they will get them back at all costs...


Prologue

**A/N: With Guardians over and done with, it is time to move to new projects. This idea has been in my head since FIERCE and I hope you enjoy. Yes, there is a sequel to Guardians in the works.**

**In the meantime, enjoy this Guardians Arise AU.**

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**Smasher Camp**

**Midnight**

"Where is he?"

The whisper was a knife cutting through the thin mountain air. He was forced to grit his teeth as his instincts roared at him to draw his blade and cut this fool down. After all, the Master wouldn't care whether or not another one of their clan fell.

As long as they met their Sacrifice quota, he was happy.

He let out the breath he was holding, tearing from his lips a low, snake-like hiss. "You ought not to sneak up on me like that. It is quite rude."

He felt something ice cold pressed against his neck. The slightest movement would drive this weapon right into his jugular vein. His fingers twitched, his breath remained shallow. Silently, he drew his own blade from the sheathe hidden on the small of his back.

"I was asking you a question," Idiot said. "The least you can do is answer."

"Move that knife from my neck or you'll be walking around without balls," he said calmly. From the way this guy talked, it was quite obvious he was a newbie. A pretty damn good assassin, yeah, but a newbie. "And if you want to have any fun for the rest of your life, I suggest complying."

He heard the groan of annoyance, felt the sting of hot spittle on the back of his neck. It was not long before the cold edge of the blade left him and he was left standing, quite satisfied, before this new recruit. There was a flash of defiance in the new kid's eyes, but it was soon doused as he met those piercing blue eyes with a hard stare of his own.

"Listen up, Kid. In this Clan, there are some rules ya gotta follow," he grabbed Idiot by the collar, lifting him up so that their eyes were level. "I'll teach you the first rule. Cross me again and I'll be doing a lot more than just nicking a piece of your ear."

He saw the defiant expression on the boy's face. "You're no-" a scream was ripped out of Idiot's throat as he drew his knife and sliced off a small piece of his ear. Blood dribbled down the mutilated limb, staining his leather garb red.

He sneered. "I'd let you in on the rest of the rules, but you're a little bit on the stupid side tonight." he applied his foot to Idiot's back. "Now get outta here, Idiot. You're polluting the air."

He growled. "I have a name, you know. It's L-"

"Your _name_ is Idiot," he interrupted. "Now get outta here. We're still ten short of our quota." he turned his back on the boy, concentrating instead on the blood red skies above him. His tongue peeked out from between his lips as he narrowed his eyes, scanning for the one he had been searching for.

There.

He landed in front of him, brown mop of hair mussed from travel. His black garments were stained with blood. From the smell of it, it was the blood of maidens, a favorite of his. The jet black wings that protruded from his back were folded neatly against him.

"Took you long enough, Pit," he said, gesturing to the young man's outfit. "Bet you had some fun."

Pit shrugged, red eyes glittering menacingly. "Master demands an awful lot from us… but that's quite alright. I had fun chasing down those girls… giving them one last night of… fun…"

"How many?" he asked sharply. "Last I heard, we're ten behind quota. Peach completely botched up her end. Let three Sacrifices get away…"

"Nine," Pit smiled sadistically, licking his lips. "I would have grabbed ten, except one got away…" he spat. "Damn Guardians. They just don't know when to get the Hell out."

He let out a low, feral growl. "We need _one more_, damn it! Else we shall not receive our Blessing!"

Pit smiled. "We'll have one more, alright. Tell me… have you ever danced with the Devil in the blue moonlight?"

He frowned. "… What-"

In a moment, he found himself hanging over a deep ravine, both of his wrists kept in an iron grip by his fellow assassin. He could feel Pit's hot breath upon his skin as he attempted to kick his way back to land, his rage coming up to boiling point. With every passing second, he could feel Pit's grip slowly loosening…

"You have said so yourself, Angus," Pit hissed, red eyes flashing. "In order to please the Master, we must make a hundred blood Sacrifices a day for the next hundred years." he licked his lips. "It is the only thing keeping our Souls alive, you know. Our Hearts were stolen by those stupid Guardians long ago." he let go of one hand, allowing it to drop down to Angus' side. "Our intention as Smashers are to take what is rightfully ours. We want our Hearts back, Angus. We have our Bodies and our Wills. Our Souls are kept alive only through the Master's Blessing… and let's face it." Pit slowly loosened his grip on the second hand.

"Your Soul ain't worth shit to us."


End file.
